Almighty Fear
by SometimeSelkie
Summary: Sequel to Socratic Hemlock. Ginny returns to Hogwarts for her sixth year with a secret that could destroy her family. Draco Malfoy is in Azkaban, Harry and Ron are AWOL, and everyone can feel that a great battle is coming.... PostHBP
1. About the Crummy Summer We Had

A continuation of my ficlet "Socratic Hemlock", which sprung from my oneshot "Trick". By hook or by crook, this is the last story in its series! It should clock in at fifteen chapters or so.

Standard disclaimers apply.

**Chapter One: About the Crummy Summer We Had**

"That'll be thirteen Sickles seven," Ginny Weasley said from behind her till. "One at a time, mind," she warned the customer, who appeared to be in third year or so, "they don't interact well when used in combination." As she bagged the boy's purchase, a deafening BOOM! sounded from the back of the shop, punctuated by the decadence of glass shattering. In most places of business, such an event would be rare and involve anger, solemnity, and retributions, but Ginny had barely flinched. The shop she was working till for was, of course, Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, and even now triumphant whoops were heard from the back room.

"Make sure you drop by Zonko's before Halloween," she said with a wink as she collected the boy's coins. "They put in an order for that," she jerked her thumb in the explosion's general direction, "while it was in its concept phase. Enjoy the snackbox, and please come again!" She returned to drawing on her parchment, her knee bouncing in a nervous rhythm. She traced over the date she'd inscribed in the top corner. _August 28, 1997._

Two weeks ago today. She was just procrastinating now. And it was past noon. She screwed up her courage. "Oi! George! Get your arse out here!"

George appeared, covered in a translucent layer of soot and beaming uncontrollably. "We finally got it to set properly! Of course, there's the small matter of the explosion, but I think it'll turn out okay, it's really much more stable if it gets it all out at once-"

"Yes, yes, you've done very well," Ginny said in a pacifying tone, casting a quick Scourgifying charm on her brother. "Can you take the till? I'm fancying some ice cream."

"Great idea! Let's go together! My treat." He stretched a hand out to her magnanimously.

"I was kind of going to go alone. I was thinking of doing some window shopping," she added hastily as George's face fell, "you probably don't want to be around for that."

"I don't mind."

"But I was-"

"Ginny." George was somber now. "I don't want you to go anywhere alone."

"Oh, you've _got_ to be kidding me."

"Fine, Mum doesn't want you to go anywhere alone. It's too dangerous, and with Ron and Harry gone…." He trailed off.

She twirled her wand in George's face. Well, it wasn't her wand, exactly. Its original owner was Draco Malfoy. It was hers now, though, and it was much nicer than her old hand-me-down. She tucked it back in her sleeve. "It's _Diagon Alley_, George. I'll be fine." She hopped off her stool, but George grabbed her arm and yanked her off-balance.

Instantly, wands were drawn and Ginny and George were facing each other with identical snarls. Neither fired a hex, though, and they lowered their wands slowly. "What's wrong with you?" George whispered.

"I want to be alone." Ginny wondered if tears would work on George this time. She was so frustrated by now that they would probably be genuine.

"You can't. I'm sorry."

"I need to go somewhere."

"I'll go anywhere you want."

She was out of options. "Anywhere?"

"I swear on a Canary Cream, your girly secrets are safe with me."

"You can't tell _anyone._"

"Of course," he said, eyeing her curiously. "Fred! You finished forming 'em?"

"As good as they'll get, I think," Fred yelled.

"Get out here. Ginny and I are going out."

Fred appeared, beating soot out of his robes. "Where are you going?"

"Window-shopping. Ickle Ginnykins needs cheering," he said, trying to put his arm around her while she attempted to shove him in the ribs.

"Bring me an ice cream if you run that way." Fred winced as he plopped down on the stool. "Strawberry."

"Will do." George ushered Ginny out of the shop. "So, where are we really going?"

"Azkaban," Ginny said in a small voice.

George laughed heartily. "Where are we really going?"

"Azkaban."

"Err…no."

"You said anywhere!" she argued furiously.

"You said Diagon Alley!" he shot back. "Why the bloody hell would you want to go there?"

"To visit Malfoy."

"Are you nutters, Ginny? Forget it. If he weren't in there for life, I'd beat him to a pulp upon release. I know you testified on his behalf, but you don't have to be nice to him, he's a bloody ponce and a criminal of the worst sort. Do you fancy him or something? because if you do-"

"George, please!" she cried desperately. "I have to, or he'll tell people things about me!" It was close enough to the truth. Kind of. "About…the Chamber…." She let her chin wobble dangerously.

"I'll kill him," George muttered tightly, pulling her into a rough embrace. "I have to come up with it yet, but I'll find a way."

"We have to go now, and you can't tell anyone. He can't do anything to me. I just have to visit him. _Please._"

Five minutes later they were in the Ministry of Magic getting patted down for a trip to prison. In half an hour, Ginny and George were at the gates of Azkaban.


	2. If Flesh Could Crawl My Skin Would Fall

**Chapter Two: If Flesh Could Crawl My Skin Would Fall**

The Portkey from the ministry to a salty shore, the rickety boat ride across gray water, being re-searched once arriving at the prison gates…it was all so _ordinary_. Ginny was almost disappointed at the process. Azkaban itself was a humourless gray place, as if the Dementors had managed to chase all colours away before they left. Despair still seeped from the walls and caused Ginny to shiver unexpectedly. The Aurors and guards looked harrowed and jaded.

"The prisoner requests to be met in an interrogation room," the Weasleys' host told them, reading from a memo, "and refuses to see George Weasley." Owls had been sent ahead of them while they boarded the boats, presumably to notify the Azkaban staff of their presence.

"That's fine," Ginny said impatiently, placing her hand on George's forearm to still the growl sounding deep in his throat.

"Then right this way, miss."

"Not too long," George warned, looking absolutely mutinous.

"I promise." Ginny followed the guard to a block of interrogation rooms and took her seat, facing the door of her chamber. The room was no different than anything else she'd been in. It was clammy. The walls were gray. The table was gray. The chairs were gray. There was a barred window in the door. It was eerily silent due to magical sound barriers insulating the chamber from the rest of the prison. Ginny was beginning to feel that there was a Dementor in the corner, draining her of any hope and good cheer she had. Shivering uncontrollably, she decided to focus instead on what she would say to Malfoy when he arrived. _Hello, Malfoy. I see you're still alive. What a pity. Well, goodbye._ That sounded pretty good. _Hello, Malfoy. I hate you for threatening my family. I just thought you should know_. That was pretty good, too.

A _clang_ as the heavy bolt on the door drew back brought her out of her musings. The door opened, and Draco Malfoy was shoved through. Any snide comment on Ginny's lips died instantly.

He'd been beaten. There were small lacerations everywhere she could see. His black eye was stunning, already starting to fade to green around the edges, and his nose had clearly been broken. He wore torn prison robes and shackles around his hands and feet, but he looked at her with an eagle's pride. "Nick of time, Weaslette," he drawled around a split lip. "I was starting to think you weren't coming."

"Malfoy," she breathed, both in wonder and horror. "What happened to you?"

"Had a family reunion," he replied, wincing as his attempt to plop casually into the chair went poorly. "Father. Not too happy to see me, I must say."

Intellectually, she knew she should be pleased to see Malfoy in this condition, but there was no pleasure in this. She was horrified. "Your dad did this?" She noticed faded yellow patches on his throat.

"It's what I deserved," he said, the lightheartedness in his voice ringing patently false to Ginny. "After all, I killed my mum. He went mad with rage."

"Malfoy, you didn't kill your mum. Voldemort killed your mum."

"Because of my failure. Anyways, it's water under the bridge."

"Water under the bridge? It looks like he tried to kill you!"

"But on the plus side, I've still got my luscious hair and my virgin arsehole."

"That's – you're disgusting, Malfoy."

"You think it doesn't happen here? I think it does. Speaking of virgins, how are you and Potter doing?"

If she'd been filled with revulsion a moment before, it gave way now to a flare of white-hot anger. "That's none of your business," she snarled. "You're always trying to talk about Harry with me. Are you in love with him or something?"

"Of course not," he shot back, flushing slightly. "I was just asking a question."

"This is crazy. I'm leaving."

"Don't go," he said over the scraping of her chair. "I kept my end of the bargain."

"You mean the blackmail?" she sneered. Ginny was glad George didn't know the half of the situation Malfoy had her in right now. The night he was taken by the Ministry, Draco had snuck through the Burrow's wards into her bedroom to warn her of an impending Death Eater attack. Percy had told the Death Eaters how to get through the wards. He had betrayed the entire family and was working on a Ministry spy for Voldemort to boot, and _Ginny was too afraid to tell anyone_. The Ministry didn't have any useful information, and it would kill her mum for it to come out in the presses that her son was a Death Eater. She needed time to find a way to get this taken care of _quietly. _ Her mum had only recently stopped being furious with her, but only because Ron and Harry's disappearance had made her realize that Ginny still cared about Harry despite what she'd done to him.

Despite what _Hermione _had done to him, really. Amortentia was truly the breakfast of champions last year, and when Hermione finally confessed to Ginny before the Quiddich final that she had been dosing Harry with love potion to help him fall in love with her ("He just needs a little push, Ginny, it would happen eventually anyway") she'd been so desperate that she'd taken the information and run with it. No good deed goes unpunished, though, and Harry found out the night of Bill and Fleur's wedding why he'd been so attracted to Ginny but found it so easy to break up with her weeks later. Furious was an understatement, and Ron was completely on Harry's side, disowning both girls for their treachery. He was probably at Harry's side right now, leaving Hermione alone in disgrace in her Muggle home. She wondered where they were….

"I swear I haven't told a soul," he said, bringing his manacled hands over his heart and looking strangely earnest. "Please, stay a while longer."

"Can you act like a normal wizard, then? I don't want to hear about your arsehole and I don't want to be insulted. Just pretend for a moment that we're friends, not enemies."

He nodded mutely, looking appropriately chastened, and cleared his throat.

They stared at each other.

"How's the wand?" he asked finally.

"It's really nice," she said truthfully. "I'm really happy with it."

His lips pursed as he thought. "How…are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks."

Silence. "Talk to me, Ginny!" he exploded.

"I am."

"No, you're not." He buried his head in his hands. "Tell me something."

"What?"

"Anything! Pretend that you're MY friend!"

"Okay, okay…calm down." His voice was plaintive and whiny, but there was true wistfulness in there somewhere, and it affected her. What did they have in common? He'd summed it up before: pure-bloodedness, and being "stomped on by Potter". Nothing else came to mind. "Have you had any other visitors yet?"

"No."

_Now_ who wasn't talking! "No one? Not even Parkinson, or-"

"Pansy broke up with me."

She was intrigued in spite of herself. "You're kidding."

"You sound so surprised."

"Well, I just figured…she's so besotted with you…."

"Well, she decided I was spending too much time trying to save my mother's life instead of being with her," he explained with an edge of bitterness.

It was almost as if he had real feelings. "…I'm sorry, Malfoy."

"No you're not."

"Actually, I am. At least someone would be visiting you then."

"You are."

"I meant habitually."

"Yeah. You."

"Malfoy, I've got _school_. I can't come visit you, even if I wanted to, and believe me, I don't."

"You're visiting me on Hogsmeade weekends, or else."

"I really hate you," she said, but her intonation was weak. She'd half-expected something like this.

"We've established that. So yes, that's the state of my love life. No girlfriend, virgin arsehole. Let's talk about you."

"_My _love life?"

"Sure, let's start with that."

"Let's not," she said stiffly.

"Awww. And here I thought we were friends."

"Can I go yet?"

"Tell me a story first," he said, fixing intent eyes on her. The sight of his broken nose was distracting. "Then you can go. Please," he implored when she hesitated. "The monotony here is killing me. Give me something else to think about."

"The monotony's killing you after two weeks? You do realize you're in here for life, right?"

"A story. A real one."

"I- I don't have any. None that I can tell you, anyways." His lower lip moved incrementally. Was a seventeen-year-old Junior Death Eater _pouting_? "How's this, Malfoy, since you insist I come back, I promise to tell you all about school next time I visit."

He still looked sulky. "So that's it? You're just going to leave me like this, bored out of my skull?"

"I wish boredom was the most of my problems!" she snapped.

"Well, what else is wrong?" he asked reasonably.

"I don't think so, Malfoy. Goodbye." She got up and rapped on the door.

Malfoy scowled. "You'd better bring me a bag of Peppermint Toads when you come back, or else!" he called out as she was led out of the room.

"Cockroach clusters, you say?"

"I mean it, Ginny! and-" The rest was cut off as she passed into the hallway.

"Everything settled?" George asked gruffly when he spied her. It looked like he had been pacing since she left.

"Thank you so much, George," she said, ignoring the question.

"I was thinking about it while you were in there, and I don't think anyone would believe him if he said anything. After all, he's in prison and we're the reason, of course he'd say things like that. I'm never coming back here," he declared, glancing at the walls suspiciously, as if they would take offense, "and you're not either."

Ginny bowed her head. "Of course not," she murmured.

She wondered where she'd get the money for that many Peppermint Toads.


	3. Trapped In The Machine

**Chapter Three: Trapped In The Machine**

It seemed incredible that, after the events of the last six months, life would ever regain a semblance of normalcy. Hogwarts was fundamentally changed. Half of its students were missing, for good or ill, and Dumbledore had been the heart and soul of the school. McGonagall had given an admirable welcome speech, but everyone looked over their shoulders more often than called for now, and scurried down the hallways more than they strolled. Innocence was lost. Of course, Ginny had been looking over her shoulder and scurrying for years now.

Classes were more demanding than ever, and the classroom dynamics had changed now that all houses were taught subjects at the same time. Professor Lamentina, an Auror dropout, was the new DADA teacher and she was piling as much defensive battle magic on the students as they could take. Ginny tried to beat the stress by hanging out with Colin and Luna when it was time to do homework, but after her friends were asleep Ginny was stealing into the library and reading in her bed by the light of Malfoy's hand of Glory, learning as much as possible about the Imperius Curse, specifically any failsafe methods for detecting it. Ideally, she wanted to walk up to Percy, cast a charm, and know unequivocally whether he had turned to the Death Eaters of his own will or because of someone else's. If it was the Imperius, it was very good rendition of it; a simple _Finite incantatum _from her was unlikely to do anything. More than anything, she wanted to just ask Hermione if Imperius-detecting charms existed and save herself sleepless nights. As it was though, she only went to the library on the nights Hermione wasn't there and had cursed the older girl more than once for holding up her research. Hermione was too clever, and Ginny couldn't risk raising Hermione's suspicions. Hermione was too righteous to let a Death Eater slip by beneath her. Hermione was too hypocritical to let someone else do a gray act they thought was best.

Their relationship would never recover, she didn't think. They never spoke of the summer anymore. Ginny had brought her up to date over ice cream before school, but they were wholly unable to comfort each other. Ron and Harry were gone. Twelve Grimmauld Place had disappeared. Mad-Eye Moody insisted that the young fools would turn up when they'd run their course, but so far there was no news. It was hard to re-forge a friendship when Harry and Ron's absence was the hippogriff in the room that neither wanted to mention first. They had settled on a sort of working relationship where they were polite, even warm, to each other, but didn't speak of anything of substance. Hermione, unfortunately, wasn't very good at impersonal charm and kept toeing their unspoken boundaries, so Ginny settled on avoiding her when it didn't take undue effort to do so.

But Hermione Granger had appointed herself Brigadier-General of Dumbledore's Army. And Dumbledore's Army was mobilizing for war.

It wasn't the same without Harry, of course, but they did what they could. It was Harry's very absence, in fact, that had convinced the DA members still attending Hogwarts that training had become more imperative than ever. Hermione researched all manners of battle spells, and after the events of last year, was adamant that the senior DA members learn each spell nonverbally. A nonverbal spell depended even more on wand movement than a verbal one; every swish had to be spot-on. Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein had a knack for figuring out the precise wand movements from written descriptions. When they came across the odd spell they couldn't master, Hermione would moan to Ginny about how good Seamus was at modifying spells to make them simpler. Such musings were fruitless, though, as Seamus had been withdrawn from Hogwarts.

"Yes!" Ginny cried as she cast an Immolation Curse on a target and it burst into incandescent flame.

"Nice one, Ginny!" Dennis Creevy cheered. "_Agua_! Do it again!"

She performed the upwards flourish again, but nothing happened. Again. Nothing. "Must've been beginner's luck," she said. Once more. Nothing. "Drat!"

"You had more oomph in it that first time," Dennis offered helpfully. "Your feet even moved."

"Really?" Ginny looked down at her feet and shuffled. "Argh! Now I'm just over-thinking it! Let's do something else!"

"How about I try the Pinprick Hex on you?"

"Okay, but if you're too good at it, I'll start practicing my Shield Charm." She probably should anyways. Defense was her weak point, as she always wanted to leap forward with a retaliatory curse instead.

Dennis grinned excitedly and rolled up his too-long sleeves. She'd asked Colin why he and Dennis had come back this year. "Are you kidding?" he'd answered, incredulous. "An historical event is about to happen and you think we'd _miss_ it?" He'd been sorely disappointed to learn that Harry hadn't returned, but had channeled that into more photography and increased vigour in the DA.

Ginny gritted her teeth as the hex hit and her shoulder exploded in infuriating discomfort, quickly transmuting to pain.

* * *

"It'll be nice to get off to Hogsmeade, don't you think?" Hermione asked Ginny as the DA trickled out of the Room of Requirement in pairs to avoid attracting too much attention. 

"I'm craving some Peppermint Toads," Ginny answered, hoping that Hermione didn't want to hang out in Hogsmeade together.

"I think I'm just going to go for Butterbeers with Morag and Neville. You should come."

Ginny's full bookbag suddenly split open, dumping books all over the hallway. She heard screeching laughter and whirled around to see Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass doubled over in a nearby alcove. "Grow up," she snapped at them.

Parkinson feigned contrition. "Well, we can't all be as mature as the Widow Potter, now, can we?"

"Shouldn't you be off giving Muggles makeup tips? I think that qualifies as torture," Ginny deadpanned.

"Get lost, Parkinson," Hermione grunted from the floor, where she was already starting to pick up Ginny's books.

"The Boy-Who-Lived gave you your very own mudblood servant, Widow Potter?" Greengrass joined in.

"Mudblood servant!" Pansy screamed, bursting into fresh laughter.

"Stuff it, Pansy." Neville had appeared on the scene and fixed Pansy with a disapproving look before continuing on towards Gryffindor tower, avoiding the fallen books. Parkinson raised a scornful eyebrow at Neville's retreating form, grabbed Greengrass' elbow, and flounced away.

"It's so strange," Hermione mused, standing with her arms full of tomes. "Here we are, preparing for war, and they're running around like idiotic schoolgirls."

"Weren't you the one talking about Butterbeers a few seconds ago?"

"That's not what I mean," Hermione said, flushing slightly. "Has your mum heard anything yet?"

"No. I told you I'd let you know if I hear anything."

Hermione seemed to accept that. "The Imperius Curse?" she asked, studying the books she was replacing in Ginny's bag.

"Yeah," Ginny answered easily, shoving _When Good People Do Bad Things: Symptoms of the Imperius Curse_ and _So House Elves Aren't Enough_ to the bottom of the pile. "Huge DADA essay on one of the Unforgivables."

"The Imperius has the most to talk about," Hermione said approvingly. "Plus, the implications are so much more insidious. Take Mr. Crouch, for example, going against everything he believed in! Could you live with yourself afterwards?"

Ginny sincerely hoped she'd never know the answer to that question.


	4. The Felix of Your Truth

**Chapter Four: The Felix of Your Truth Will Always Break It**

It had been stunningly easy to give the rest of the Hogwarts students the slip in Hogsmeade. Ginny had shrunk her broom and taken it with her, prepared to tell people she was carting it to Dervish and Banges for maintenance, and she went to Honeydukes while Hermione went to the Three Broomsticks. With a bag of Peppermint Toads, she darkened Zonko's doorway and sweetly asked if she could use the Floo to take something to her brothers. Getting through the Ministry checkpoint was much easier without having to wait for George to be divested of his many magical tricks, and even Azkaban didn't seem quite as dark and cheerless as before. She felt like she'd been dosed with Felix Felicis, and not even Malfoy could put her in a sour mood. She fiddled with the ribbon on the Toads and wiggled in her seat while she waited in the interrogation room, the Weird Sisters stuck in her head.

"Ginny?" Malfoy asked when he was thrust inside the room. "Did I just see you dancing in your chair?"

"You did," she answered cheekily, and lobbed the Toads at him. "As requested, Malfoy."

He missed the package and stooped over to snatch it off the floor. "You're a darling," he said, sitting down and trying to remove the ribbon. "I can't undo it in these bloody shackles," he complained, then jumped in shock as the ribbon snapped. He dove in double-handed and came up with a Toad in each hand. Both went straight into his mouth.

"You probably shouldn't eat them all at once," Ginny said, her lips quirking with mirth as he sucked on the candies to activate them. When she took a moment to consider it, though, she realized that maybe eating the whole package in one sitting might be a good idea. He was looking sickly. Oh, the cuts and bruises were healed, and the swelling was gone from his crooked nose, but he looked even thinner than before. There were dark circles under his eyes and he was unkempt: ratty robes, patchy beard growth, hair growing dull and greasy, smudges of dirt in unexpected places.

"I 'ike moo mattle 'em," he managed to get out. His cheek distended grotesquely – a Toad kicking outwards – and he swallowed with a sigh of contentment. "Have at it, me boys," he said, tucking his hair behind his ears one side at a time, thanks to the manacles, "and may the best Toad win."

Ginny giggled in spite of herself.

"Have you ever battled Peppermint Toads in your stomach?" he sniffed, unable to keep from smiling. "I assure you, you haven't lived until you've tried."

"No, it's not that, it's just when you pushed your hair back. You're looking more and more like Snape," she teased.

Draco's smile faltered. Ginny nearly smacked herself for her impetuousness. It finally hit her that she'd been having a civil conversation with _Draco Malfoy_ – how had that happened, exactly? – and had mucked it up within two minutes.

"So," he said quickly, "you must have a new DADA professor?"

"We do. Her name's Professor Lamentina and she says she dropped out of Auror training, but I'll bet she was kicked out, but that's beside the point I guess…." And it was that easy. Ginny talked, and Draco listened. She told him about her classes, the teachers, which students were gone and which had returned. He drank everything in and asked earnest questions, and commiserated with her over schoolwork. It felt wonderful to have someone to bounce thoughts off of. Colin and Luna were great friends, but Colin was too high-energy to think about something for more than half a minute at best, and when one bounced ideas at Luna, well…they just never returned.

"Ginny," Malfoy said softly when she finally broke for air. "Thank you for coming."

"I didn't exactly have a choice," she said, but her reply was milked of venom.

"I don't know how you managed to give Potter the slip, but I'm really glad you did."

He was so honest, an imprint of an innocent being that she knew didn't exist but the illusion was so complete! "Harry broke up with me," she admitted, willing her voice to make the words matter-of-fact. _Don't ask, don't ask, don't ask_….

"…He _what_?"

"You look so surprised."

"Well, I just…figured…."

"…That we were going to have mounds of red-haired, green-eyed babies?" she filled in wryly.

"No, not that." She swore she saw him shudder. "I was sure you'd be the one to cut him loose. I might actually have Galleons tied up in it," he mused, screwing his face in concentration, "I was so drunk I can't remember if we made a pot or just talked about it."

"We were that interesting to you?" she hooted.

He looked at her strangely then, with no trace of amusement. "Of course." He reached for two more Peppermint Toads.

"Draco?" she asked hesitantly. His head snapped up, sober gray eyes a ridiculous juxtaposition against his heaving cheeks. "Is there any way to tell if someone's under the Imperius curse?"

He cocked a scornful eyebrow and finally swallowed. "If there was, do you really think anyone would use it anymore?"

"I thought maybe there was some, I don't know, secret way or a really advanced spell."

His eyebrow hadn't budged a millimetre. "And I would know because I'm an evil Dark wizard? And so _very_ competent that I ended up here?" The conversation was rapidly going south. "Why would you want to know, anyways?" he sneered. "Trying to be some sort of prodigy? Hoping to win Potter back with your knowledge? Did he end up with Granger or something?" he guessed, wrinkling his crooked nose at the thought.

"Stop it," she said warningly, feeling her colour rise.

"Or what, exactly? Just remember one thing, Weaslette, you're here at my bidding. You can't tell me what to do." Ginny had been drawing in a breath to let loose a tirade, but now she nearly choked on it as she burst into laughter. "What the hell's so funny?" he demanded.

"Did you really just say that? What are you, five years old? 'You can't tell me what to do' – you're in _prison_, Malfoy. You look pathetic."

Actually, he looked murderous. "If I had my wand, I'd hex you unconscious, Weasley."

"But _I've_ got your wand," she taunted. "And believe me, if I had it here, I'd return the favour."

They glowered at each other, Ginny with her arms crossed and Draco with his fists drawn up to his shoulders. "Ha!" Ginny barked suddenly.

"What?" he asked suspiciously.

"You blinked first."

"Who's the five-year-old now?" Ginny didn't say anything. "Stop sulking, Girl Weasel, we don't have time for it."

"I want to go home."

"Aww, are your _feewings_ hurt?"

"I was having such a good day until I got here," she said resentfully.

"Azkaban wrecked your day? Welcome to my _life_."

"It's not Azkaban, it's _you_," she spat.

"You seemed happy enough when you were droning on about your petty schoolgirl problems."

For some reason, out of everything else he said, this was the most stinging. "You seemed happy enough to listen!" she cried.

"Of course I was happy!" he shouted, flailing his manacled arms uselessly and missing the Toads by mere inches. "It took my mind off the horrors of this place! Can you stop for one second and imagine what it's like here? It's drafty and mouldy and I cough all the time and I'm filthy and sleep on the floor and eat gruel! The crazies are still here and they scream all night so I'm not even free in my dreams! Every single comfort, every last thing that could possibly give me pleasure, is lost to me. Death," he breathed harshly, his eyes boring into Ginny's skull, "would be welcome." Malfoy's clammy hand felt like an Inferius' to Ginny and when she attempted to wriggle out of his grasp, he released her abruptly and scowled at the wall. Due to the extraordinary silence afforded by the charms on the room, she could hear that his breathing was barely controlled.

Ginny stood. "I don't want to leave like this," she whispered, leaning over the table and willing him to look at her again.

"Then don't." He was practically motionless.

"I have to. I'm probably late as it is."

"Well you'd better come back, or else."

"Why would you even want me to come back?"

Finally, he looked at her. "Ginny Weasley, you're my only friend. Today was the best day I've had in a long time."

Friends? She couldn't bring herself to disabuse him of the notion. A small, hard pit was forming in her stomach, either pity or trepidation. "It was good talking to you, Malfoy."

He brightened. "Really?"

"For a while, anyways," she shrugged. "Take care."

"You too. If the Dark Lord ever shows up at Hogwarts, get as far away from Potter as you can."

She knocked on the door and nodded at the guard. "Draco," she murmured as the door swung open, "Harry's been missing for a few months now."


	5. When You Live A Double Life

**Chapter Five: When You Live A Double Life**

"Hey, Ginny," Colin said in the Gryffindor common room that night, "you missed supper."

"I know. I just wasn't hungry," Ginny lied. She'd sneak down to the kitchen later, but for now the fire mocked her, hurling insults with every crackle and flicker. She had to listen.

"I ran across something called the Convulsion Hex when I was doing my homework," he told her. "D'you think I should ask Hermione about them?"

"Maybe," she answered vaguely, staring at the fire, willing it to stop and breaking down before it at the same time.

"Are you okay? You've been in a trance all evening."

Ginny gave her head a little shake. "I'm fine. No, Colin, that sounds like it could be really useful. See if you can't find something on your own, though; Hermione's swamped with work right now."

"I'll try." Impulsively, Colin reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "I know you're worried about him, Ginny, but you don't have to be. When he needs help, he'll come for us, and thanks to all our extra training we'll be fully prepared."

Sweet Merlin, she really _was_ the Widow Potter, dutifully waiting her lord's return. Colin had always been nice, but this year he was a bit less self-absorbed and catered to Ginny especially. He probably thought of her as his comrade-in-arms in pining for Harry.

Colin was fumbling in his bag. "I took this at our last meeting." He produced a photograph and handed it to Ginny. It was of herself, casting a spell with determination. Flames exploded at the far edge of the photo, barely visible, and her entire form became the same colour as her hair. Photo-Ginny pumped her fist in the air, turning to the viewer with a pantomime that quite clearly said, "Did you see _that_?"

"It's lovely, Colin," she breathed, watching herself cast the nonverbal Immolation Curse again, marveling at how well he had captured the light of the fire, fire that was once at her beck and call.

He refused her attempt to give the photo back to him. "It's your copy. You know, in case you ever forget how amazing you are," he teased gently.

If only he knew what she had done to his idol this past year…. She couldn't bear the conversation any longer. Ginny excused herself as rapidly as was polite and retired. Without the distraction of the fire, she tried to sort out her thoughts.

What she thought, much later in bed with her belly full of pilfered kitchen goods, was that she was stupid, _bloody_ stupid. There was definitely no way to tell whether or not someone was under the Imperius, and if she told someone about Percy now, she would have to explain why it took her so long to bring him to anyone's attention. Her mum was already distraught – her letters to Ginny were becoming increasingly disjointed and desperate – what would a further shock do? Where were Harry and Ron, and why had they cut off contact with everyone?

She could tell Remus Lupin, she decided suddenly. He was used to dealing with outrageous things in a discreet manner, if his tales of his years in school were any indication. She would owl him tomorrow and arrange to meet him in person, Percy would get his, and she could finally wash her hands of Draco Malfoy.

After the surge of adrenaline accompanying her new plan, her mind started to soften around the edges and prepare for sleep. Free of Malfoy, finally! Now that she was away from his insufferable sphere of influence, her last visit made complete sense. He was so starved for attention and human contact that he would've listened to anyone without complaint. Then, when he'd had his fill of her and started feeling normal again, he reverted back to normal Malfoy behaviour. She felt so foolish now for feeling so hurt when he had turned on her in the interrogation room. It was quite obvious what had happened, that his concern and acceptance were false, but it had been so freeing to talk openly with him, if only for a short time. It was-

Her body went rigid then, all notions of sleep driven from her body.

It was like having Tom back.

* * *

Ginny had seen Luna giving her sympathetic looks over breakfast the next day, and the blonde girl ambled over to the Gryffindor table when she had finished eating her toast (as always, nibbling from the edge in a spiral fashion). "How were your dreams last night, Ginny?" she asked dreamily. 

She nearly choked on her oatmeal. Luna could be eerily perceptive. "Not pleasant," she admitted. When sleep finally came to her, it brought disturbing imagery.

Luna eyed her solemnly. "Blartfasts," she declared. "Colin told me you seemed off last night, and from what he described, I knew it had to be them. I wish I'd had some of these on hand to save your sleep, but I just made them this morning. Here," she said, handing Ginny a tiny faded velvet pouch on a string, "this should keep them away."

Ginny moved to open the drawstring, decided it was better not to know what was inside, and put it in her pocket. "Thanks, Luna."

"You're welcome. Now that that's taken-"

"Ginny." Hermione was standing behind them in a state of total disarray. Her robes were unkempt and her hair a wild nest, a white trail of dried saliva still crusted to her face, but she was tense with energy. "I need to talk to you. Now."

Ginny turned back to Luna, who was pulling something out of her pocket. "Luna, I'll see you in class?"

"Take this, Hermione," Luna said, offering a second pouch. "It will stop the-"

"Thanks," Hermione muttered dismissively, shoving the pouch in her pocket without looking at it or Luna. "Bye." The older girl dragged Ginny out of the hall and into an alcove. After checking to be sure the coast was clear, she produced a parchment from her robes and thrust it at Ginny. "I got this this morning," she said without preamble.

Furtively, Ginny read the parchment. It was unsigned, but there was no question as to who had written it.

_Hermione,_

_Meet us at the Astronomy tower at 1 a.m. on Tuesday. Bring Ginny._

_Hope your essay on Cohesion Portkeys is going well._

"What's a Cohesion Portkey?" Ginny asked, her heart beginning to race.

"I'm about to find out," Hermione said grimly, tearing at a nicked biscuit. "Want to meet in the library in half an hour?"


	6. When We Were Liars Things Were Seamless

A/N – I'm unhappy with this chapter, but the show must go on.

**Chapter Six: When We Were Liars Things Were Seamless**

The Astronomy Tower was quiet. Hermione was drumming her fingers on a wicker basket and Ginny was slumped over a second basket, exhausted from the evening's Quidditch practice. The room was cold, but she was warm in her jumper and the material felt pleasant against her cheek…her eyes hurt less when she kept them closed….

She was flying, using the maneuvers she'd practiced earlier in the day, as Bill and Charlie passed a Quaffle between them. Fred and George were hitting Bludgers at each other, Ron was annoyed with them, and Ginny spied the Snitch. Malfoy was in her way, so she checked him as hard as she could and sped towards the gold speck. Now she had the tiny winged ball, but Malfoy had spiraled to the ground and was in a broken heap on the pitch. Percy was beside him, pale and unnaturally twisted.

"Do you think they meant Tuesday one a.m. as in very late on Monday?" Hermione's voice drifted to Ginny's ears from far away. "What if they came last night?"

Ginny rubbed at her eyes, still disquieted from her brief dream. "Then we'd have gotten Howlers for breakfast. They're just late. They always are."

Her answer didn't seem to reassure Hermione, who stared at the open window and resumed her anxious finger-tapping. It was like music to Ginny, and went nicely with her warm jumper. The jumper sleeve felt nice against her cheek, too. Her eyes hurt to be open so much. Maybe if she closed them…?

Hermione cried out as Buckbeak exploded into the classroom in a shower of feathers. Two figures dropped from the hippogriff's back. Each party surveyed the other.

"We need food," Ron gasped finally. Hermione opened the lid of the basket beside her, and both boys dove forward to discover its treasures. "You're ruddy brilliant," he muttered with a smile as he began shoveling food into his mouth.

Hermione didn't smile back.

Silence prevailed as Harry and Ron devoured the meal Hermione and Ginny had brought them from the kitchen, punctuated only by their groans of appreciation and annoyed clacks from Buckbeak when he wanted another tidbit thrown his way. The boys had tanned substantially since Ginny had seen them last, but they were so lean! Their hair had grown shaggy and their stubble accentuated their sunken eyes. They looked unwell. They looked like Malfoy. Ginny was sickened at the thought that Harry and Ron may be in their own prison every bit as punishing as Azkaban, but she was also sickened at the way they steadfastly refused to look at her and Hermione.

"It's a stroke of genius, using a Cohesion Portkey," Hermione began stiffly as the boys showed signs of slowing down. "The military history behind them is fascinating, I can't imagine half the surprise attacks I read of being successful without them."

"It was my idea," Ron boasted. "I read about it a bit at Twelve Grimmauld."

"Can you do it, Hermione?" Harry asked, studying his tart.

"Why has Twelve Grimmauld disappeared?" Ginny asked. She was ignored. Her head was pounding with lack of sleep. Everything looked surreal, bodies becoming mere silhouettes, and she was having trouble following the others' conversation. She was trying to cling to this moment, being in this room with Harry, helping him and Ron in their fight, but everything was slipping away without imprinting on her brain.

"Well, I scoured the library and finally found the incantation – Ginny found the book, actually – and it looks pretty complex, Harry. I've studied it and studied it, and of course there's the extra incantation for the master Key which is another level altogether, let me tell you, and I've practiced a bit, not _on_ anything of course, I don't know how to remove it…." She'd finally run out of breath. "I don't know."

"Of course she can," Ron scoffed. He flipped a Galleon at Hermione. "Give it a try."

"Do nothing, Hermione," Ginny snarled suddenly. All three looked at her in surprise. "Before we start this, I want some answers. Where have you been, and why haven't you talked to anyone until now?"

"We've been everywhere, Ginny," Harry answered with a thin veneer of patience. "We tracked Ravenclaw's wand all the way to Turkey. We couldn't have anyone here know where we were in case Voldemort found out and knew where the wand was himself. The good news," he concluded, turning to Hermione, "is that we're down to the last Horcrux. The bad news is, we're not sure what it is."

"Really?" Hermione's eyes sparked with academic interest.

"Mum's gone spare," Ginny cut in before Hermione could derail the conversation with questions. "I've got some parchment here and a quill. I want you to both write her, tell her you're okay, and tell her that you love her!" Her strident voice echoed off the walls of the Tower, and Buckbeak tossed his head in irritation.

"Ginny," Ron snapped, "we don't really have the time right now. Plus, if we -"

"NOW!"

"Go ahead," Hermione encouraged them quietly, "and I'll work on the Portkeys. Harry, your Galleon?"

"I was thinking," Ron said while Harry fumbled in his pockets, "that they should do something when they're activated, like an alarm or something." He gesticulated vaguely with his quill.

"_Write_," Ginny hissed.

"That might be too conspicuous," Hermione mused. "What about light?"

"Because that's not conspicuous?" Ron snorted, scrawling on the parchment.

"Heat, maybe? And we could ask people to wear them at all times?"

"Either they won't be noticed in outer pockets, or you'll burn someone with it against their skin," Harry said.

"Light, then?" Hermione asked, Harry's trick Galleon between her fingers.

Harry nodded uncertainly, looking overwhelmed. "If you think that's our best bet?"

"I promise it'll be bright," she whispered, setting the Galleon on the ground and drawing her wand. She looked more than a bit ill. "Here goes nothing."

"There," Ron cried, shoving the parchment at Ginny, "are you happy now?"

"Ssshhh! Hermione's trying to work!" Ginny scolded.

"You can't give these to her right away. Wait a couple of days."

"Fine. Get Harry over here."

Ron poked Harry with the quill. Harry wrote quickly, his expression stoic. Ginny glanced over at Hermione who was waving her wand in an intricate pattern over Harry's Galleon, muttering under her breath.

"Ginny." Harry spoke quietly and finally looked directly at her, his expression tender. Ginny's breath caught. She must have fallen asleep. "I need you to tell me everything you know about Voldemort."

It was a double punch to the gut. Ginny reeled, her head hurting more than ever. She was suddenly aware that her mouth was opening and closing soundlessly, like a fish. Hermione's voice droned in the background. "I-I don't know anything about Voldemort," she stammered.

Harry fixed her with a flinty look. "You wrote to him. He possessed you."

"He was Tom back then," she protested weakly. She and Harry had never had this conversation.

"Tell me about," his lip curled in distaste, "Tom."

"Uh, okay. Well, you met him, he seems very nice and conscientious at first. He remembers everything you say, and always knows how to brighten your day. And he tells wonderful stories, and he's so handsome and charming." A small smile graced her features as she remembered. "He would visit me in my dreams, of course I don't know if I was actually asleep or out strangling roosters, but he said I was beautiful and…worthy…." Her smile fell away. "Tom lies, Harry. Everything he says is a lie. Don't listen to anything he says, and don't believe anything he's ever told you. He knows just what to say. He makes bad ideas seem good. Once you listen to him, once you start believing, _that's_ when he starts hurting you, and hurting people is what he likes best. He still visits me sometimes when I'm asleep," she said softly, "only to make me hurt."

All three of them were looking at her. Ron looked like he'd eaten a bogie-flavoured Every Flavour Bean. Hermione's eyes shone suspiciously. "Do you know of any magical weaknesses?" Harry pressed on.

Ginny shook her head slowly.

Harry sighed heavily. "Hermione, how's the Portkey coming?"

Hermione blinked rapidly. "They're finished, I suppose. Here you are, Harry – wait, I'll put it in something." She reached in her pocket, retrieved the velvet satchel Luna had given her, and upended it. A clod of dirt, shredded something-or-other, and small bones fell to the floor. She placed Harry's fake Galleon in the bag and handed it to him. "Ginny, do you have a bag for Ron's?"

"Yes," she said, reluctantly opening her own amulet.

"Okay, Harry, when you activate your master Key all of the subsidiary Keys will open to wherever the master Key is. Others will know your Key has been activated because theirs will shine. Ron's will tell you right away whether or not it worked, so I won't have to make one for myself."

"What are you talking about, Hermione?" Ron asked, confused.

Hermione's chin lifted defiantly. "Well, there's no sense in all three of us having one."

Ginny laughed hollowly. Harry and Ron looked uncomfortable. "Hermione," she said, "they haven't come for you. They haven't come for me. They've come for our help. Best of luck," she said, turning to Ron and Harry. "If you need anything more from me, let me know. But just remember this, Harry, even if we're not your friends we're still your allies. We're _not_ your slaves, and you'd do well to treat us with more respect than you have tonight. I'm exhausted from Quidditch and I've got a roaring headache, so if you've nothing more to take from me I'm going to bed."

Ginny could see the astonishment in Harry's eyes and she wanted nothing more than to tell him it was okay, that she understood. She didn't understand. She didn't recognize these wizards who were battle-hardened and perfunctory, couldn't see the boys she'd joked around with when she was a child, and she couldn't stand to take part in this morbid dance of trying to act like a friend while feeling like a stranger any longer.

"You don't know what you're saying, Ginny," Hermione snapped, her eyes full of astonishment of their own. "They need me."

This was a scene she really didn't want to witness. "Take care," she said to them, collecting their letters to Molly. "I'll be ready when you need me."


	7. Decay Will Let You Learn To Bend

**Chapter Seven: Decay Will Let You Learn to Bend**

Hermione showed up at breakfast the next morning, pale-faced with red-rimmed eyes. Ginny tried to feel some sympathy for her and failed. Whoever had called her the brightest witch of her age was sorely mistaken. She called a DA meeting and was screaming halfway through. "You KNOW Voldemort loves snakes! He's going to use them in battle! If we can't get these repelling jinxes working properly, we're _going_ to be _killed_ by _snakes_!"

"I still don't see what's wrong with an Impediment Jinx," Terry Boot countered.

With a snarl on her face, Hermione whipped her wand at the small snakes she had conjured for practice and they became ice. Another jab and the ice exploded everywhere. By the time Ginny uncovered her eyes, the door was swinging shut and Hermione was gone, Dennis Creevy quivering in her wake.

"What's eating her?" Padma asked.

"She skived off Transfiguration this morning," Neville reminded her.

"She wasn't in Arithmancy either," Anthony Goldstein said.

"Do you think someone broke up with her?" Pavarti gasped. Padma shot her a dark look. "What?"

"Could we just get some more snakes, please?" Terry asked irritably, prodding his own dumpy, uncoordinated specimen that was more worm than serpent.

* * *

Hermione became a spectre over the next two days, absent from mealtimes and, apparently, increasingly truant from class. On Thursday at lunch, Ginny and Colin were watching Neville prod a very sickly, very ugly plant. "I thought you were supposed to be good at Herbology," Colin teased, snapping a candid. 

"It wasn't me, it was Pansy," Neville muttered, wincing when dark green spikes attacked and sank into his finger.

"I've had it with that Parkinson bitch," Ginny said darkly, stretching backwards to sight the subject of conversation through one eye. She'd been a particularly nasty entity over the last month or so. "A Sickle says I can Bat-Bogey her from here."

"It's not her fault," Neville said quickly. He sucked on his thumb. "It dried out overnight."

"What _is _it?" Colin asked, grimacing at the plant.

"I thon…." Neville looked surprised when a nonsense word came out of his mouth. His eyes widened and he suddenly became excited. "Ly longue!" He touched his thumb to his lips and pointed at the plant. "Loylon!" He scooped up the plant and scarpered away.

Colin blinked. "Oooookay."

"I…I think that plant just rendered Neville speechless," Ginny said hesitantly. While she was contemplating why someone would be happy if their tongue suddenly stopped working, her entire field of vision turned blue.

"They're ready," Luna murmured.

Ginny reached out and grasped the pillowcase that Luna was dangling in front of her. "Hi, Luna. Uh…thanks."

Luna looked at her expectantly.

"Oh, I mean, it's very pretty. I won't have any more problems with ballwags now."

"Blartfasts," she corrected gently, "and I can tell the amulet helped. But that," she said, indicating the pillowcase, "is for Hermione. She needs it right now."

Ginny eyed Luna keenly, trying to discern whether this was an odd flash of prophecy or hyperbole on Luna's part. She couldn't tell, and Luna wouldn't know even if she asked. "I'll get them right to her, then." She sauntered up to the Gryffindor girls' dorm and let herself into the seventh-year room. The curtains on Hermione's bed were drawn. "Hermione?" No answer. "Are you in here?"

Just when she was ready to try the library instead, Hermione's head appeared between the curtains. "What?" she croaked, her face screwed up against the light.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Ginny said quickly, "I didn't realize you were asleep."

"That them?" she asked, quickly becoming alert.

"Luna gave this to me."

Hermione threw back the curtain. "Perfect timing." With the bed exposed, Ginny could see that Hermione had fallen asleep in her school robes on a pile of money. A pile of Galleons, to be precise. Perfectly awake now, she flicked her wand and dozens of small velvet pouches flew out of the pillowcase. A graceful wiggle sent the Galleons sailing into the air into the pouches, and she banished most of them back into the pillowcase with a sweeping motion. "Take them to McGonagall. Tell her I'm not going to class this afternoon." The curtains snapped shut.

Ginny was getting dreadfully tired of being treated like a page.

* * *

"Excellent," McGonagall said crisply when she realized what cargo Ginny bore. She reached in and nicked a sample for herself. "Extraordinary," she muttered, examining the trick Galleon in her palm. "Miss Weasley, if you would please Floo these over to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes? It would be…highly irregular if I would show up there. I will explain to your professors that you are indisposed." 

If Ginny wasn't mistaken, Fred and George had set wards to prevent any Hogwarts faculty from entering the premises. "Of course," she murmured, trying to tamp down her irritation at being used as an oversized owl. McGonagall tossed the Floo Powder and Ginny hefted her burden into the fire. As soon as she emerged at her destination, she realized that McGonagall had practically given her carte blanche. The rest of the day was hers.

"Ginny!" George cried boisterously, looking up from his paperwork. "Is that them?" he asked, motioning to the pillowcase.

"That's right, George," she cackled, "a dozen dead house elves."

"I'm Fred." He slung the pillowcase on the counter. "George, Ginny's here!"

"I heard, George," George said, stepping into the room.

"Shall we show her, George?"

"Absolutely, George."

Fred turned the top parchment in his stack over to Ginny.

_Dear BILL WEASLEY,_

_Congratulations! You've guessed the correct order of the Phoenix Puzzle that Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes released to our loyal customers last month. As a token of our awe at your attention to detail, we present you with this Trick Galleon. Are you tired of wondering if it's going to rain tomorrow? If your secret crush likes you back? If You-Know-Who is murdering your family? The Trick Galleon will answer all of your questions if you just ask. Astound your friends! __Don't leave home without the Trick Galleon, it's a shining beacon of knowledge in these dark times!_

_Here at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, we are always innovating new products! We're currently perfecting Nosy-Proof Invisible Ink, which can only be revealed by a stylus keyed to the original pen! Give it a try with the stylus taped below – we've encoded a message on the top right corner of this letter just for you!_

_Thank you for your continued patronage of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes._

_Prankfully yours,_

_Fred and George Weasley_

_p.s. – Christmas is almost here! We are proud to present Yuletide Edition Wildfire Whiz-Bangs, available now!_

"You're both barking," she said simply.

"Barking geniuses, you mean," Fred corrected. "They have to be written in code in case they're intercepted."

"So what's the secret message – other than a guarantee that the recipient will know if their package has been tampered with?"

"'Portkey', of course."

"We taught her so well," George sighed with a misty smile.

"You don't think these clues are too subtle?"

"Please," Fred scoffed, "if they can't figure it out they're not going to be useful on the battlefield anyways. If it's too obvious, interceptors could figure it out."

"Well, interceptors are going to be suspicious when the Galleons don't actually _do_ anything."

"Oh, but they will," Fred said ominously.

"Lee showed us the funniest Muggle toy a while back," George explained. "We've adapted the idea. Watch." He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and appraised it in such a way that Ginny was reminded of a picture in her Muggle Studies textbook of a man holding a human skull. "Oh Great Bogie Rag," he said in a deep, theatrical voice, "isn't ickle Ginnykins lucky to have such wonderful brothers?"

"Cannot predict now," the hankie chirped.

"Great Bogie Rag," Fred asked, "is that because said brothers haven't grown into their true wonderfulness, wonderful as they are already?"

"My sources say yes," the hankie squeaked. Fred and George chortled

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "It's enchanted to flatter you?"

"Reply hazy, try again," said the hankie.

"It answers yes or no questions randomly. Endless amusement and quite brilliant, don't you think?"

"YES!" the hankie agreed emphatically.

"Rag, will I shred you to pieces if George doesn't put you in his pocket straight away?" Ginny asked sweetly.

"Signs point to yes."

Ginny gestured meaningfully. The handkerchief disappeared. "You're _sure_ this extra charm won't affect the Portkey function?"

"Positive," George said breezily.

"We've tested them against traditional Portkeys and a handful of other common enchantments," Fred elaborated.

"Sounds like you've cased it," Ginny admitted. "I've got to go; there's some post I need to send."

"I'll go with," Fred said.

At the post office, Ginny mailed a carefully-worded letter to Remus Lupin that she'd composed that morning during History of Magic. "It's from Harry, Fred, but he doesn't want Lupin to know he was at Hogwarts."

"You should've seen Mum when she got those letters from Harry and Ron," Fred chuckled. "Smiling and crying and furious. They're idiots not to ask for help, you know."

Ginny shrugged. "Maybe they have help we don't know about. I don't know how they would've made it all the way to Turkey and back otherwise."

"Turkey?" Fred echoed.

"That's all I know. They were too important to tell us lowly girls about it."

"Like I said, they're idiots." They strolled to the fireplace located for the convenience of post office patrons. "Chin up, Ginny, and we'll see you in a month."

"Bye, Fred," she said, giving him a quick hug. "Share half of that with George, mind!" she joked.

"Will do. See you."

Ginny tossed the Floo powder into the fire. She saw Fred slip out the door and into the crowd on the street. "Ministry of Magic, Department of Corrections!" she cried. Now that her letter was speeding its way to Lupin, she felt it was time to pay a last visit to Draco Malfoy.

* * *

"Back again so soon, Miss Weasley?" 

"I just can't stay away, Alec." _Goodbye, Alec_, she thought as he left her in the room. _Goodbye, dreary grey Azkaban. Goodbye, hard chair that always makes my back hurt. Goodbye, nasty draughty room._ The door opened. _Goodbye, Malfoy._

He was hunched over yet smiling. "Finally! I was worried you were never coming back."

"I was just here less than a week ago,"

"Really?" he murmured, seeming uninterested in such minor details.

"I'm supposed to be in class. I just wanted to drop in and say hello."

"You skived off class to see me?" he asked warmly, his eyes guileless.

He was killing her. Ginny wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake him. She hated herself for almost _liking_ this new, gentle Malfoy. _He is not Tom, not Tom, NOT Tom…_ Her family was more important than the boy in front of her. "That's right."

"How are classes going?"

She made some idle small talk about the trying nature of her schoolwork. Her impending Transfiguration essay was particularly vexing, but Draco had no advice.

"Potter hasn't turned up dead yet?" he asked.

"No, he's very much alive. I saw him two days ago."

Draco stiffened. "He's back at Hogwarts?"

"No. He's disappeared again."

"Thank every god there is," he sighed, mopping his filthy brow with his bound hands. "Stay as far away from him as possible."

"No problem there," Ginny muttered under her breath.

"I don't want you in any trouble."

"I can handle myself, you know," she said in annoyance. "If Death Eaters mess with me, this is what they're going to get." She pulled out Colin's photo and showed him.

Draco sucked in his breath, transfixed. "Can I have it?" he asked, stretching his hands out tentatively.

Ginny snatched the picture back reflexively. Draco's face fell into the beginnings of a pout. She reconsidered and realized that this would be Malfoy's last request of her. She could always claim she lost it and ask Colin for another copy. "Okay," she agreed, relinquishing it.

Draco cradled it in his hands like a baby bird, seemingly afraid to touch it. He looked from Picture-Ginny to Ginny herself, his eyes large and dark. "Thank you."

"No problem. Just a reminder of my lethal wand technique," she joked.

"Sometimes I start forgetting your face," he said softly. "I – I'm starting to forget everyone's faces when I try to imagine them in the dark. Sometimes it's like they never existed, like I've always been here, alone."

His pain was visceral. For a moment, Ginny was transported outside herself and reminded that Draco was only a year older than her, hardly more than a boy, and thrust into a world he had no control over. She remembered her own near-hysteria months ago when she realized she couldn't recall Harry's face with complete accuracy and wordlessly reached her hand across the table until it was beside his. His dirty knuckles brushed against her palm, and at the contact he drew a heaving breath and bowed his head, dull hanks of hair obscuring his face.

She laid her thumb over his hand. "I've got to get going," she whispered. He nodded and his hands disappeared behind his hair. "Draco, look at me." He did. His mouth was twisted into a grimace and his eyes shone unnaturally. Guilt was choking her. She had to keep perspective. He was a criminal, a blackmailer, a user! She was free of him! She should turn and leave now! "I'm sorry," she said instead.

His entire body was trembling. "I'll miss you," he said plaintively.

"I know. I'll miss you too," she replied, realizing after she said it that it wasn't entirely a lie.

"You're the best friend I could ask for here," he murmured.

Ginny's throat constricted painfully. "Goodbye, Malfoy."

* * *

A/N Are you craving some B-plot? If you'd like to hear more about Neville and his plant, read my other in-progress fic, Walking Wounded. 


	8. Spoiled Rotten By Your Secret

**Chapter Eight: Spoiled Rotten By Your Secret**

Lupin's reply to Ginny's letter was terse.

_Ginny,_

_I'm away on business. I will contact you when I return._

_RJL_

First, Ginny panicked. Away on business? That meant he was amongst the werewolves. Who knew when he would be done there? Then, she was angry with herself for putting off solving her problem for so long. By the time the next Hogsmeade weekend was announced, resignation set in. She would be returning to Azkaban.

A fresh snow had fallen, but the weather had held and Hogsmeade was like a fairy village. Ginny had been on tenterhooks for weeks, hoping against hope that she'd hear from Lupin again. Now that she knew that intervention wasn't a possibility, she felt preternaturally calm about going to visit someone she'd said a permanent goodbye to. She tried not to think too much about how she was going back on her promise to herself that she would never see Malfoy again. She focused on that small part of her that wondered how Draco spent his days in his cell, and what exactly in his mind had snapped when his mother died. Had Voldemort tortured her in front of him? She'd never asked how he'd learned of Narcissa's death. That part, the same part that couldn't fathom how difficult it must be to lose a parent, reminded her to buy a box of Peppermint Toads before she made it to the Three Broomsticks. Once said package was tucked under her arm, she decided to show up late for Butterbeers with Luna and Colin and went instead to the Ministry via Zonko's.

She had thought that maybe the trek back to Azkaban would be surreal, but it only felt familiar and chilly as she crossed the sea to the prison once again. As the briny gray waves made a feeble attempt to threaten her, she tried to clear her mind of everything but her new resolutions. She would learn what Malfoy knew. She wouldn't let any of his pathetic insults anger her. She wouldn't tell him anything of import, but she would mold herself into his confidante. She would remember not to feel too sorry for him considering it was his own fault he was in prison, but she wouldn't attack him. She wouldn't feel helpless, because help was on its way.

"Miss Weasley," Alec greeted her as she kicked the snow off her boots.

"The usual room, I assume?" Ginny asked with a small smile.

"No." He clasped his hands together, a poor attempt to conceal anxiousness. "I'm afraid Mr. Malfoy already has visitors."

"I can hardly believe that," Ginny said wryly. "…Seriously?"

He nodded.

"Could I wait for him? Is he in one of the interrogation rooms?"

"I supp- well, yes, you may wait. It could take a while, though," he warned.

As Ginny took a seat, a thrill of adrenaline ran up her spine. Malfoy had visitors? The damned liar. She was going to learn the identity of Nobody in a matter of minutes. For all she knew, Nobody could be a long-lost schoolmate. Wouldn't _that_ be interesting! A thought suddenly struck her. If she could see Nobody, Nobody could see her! Whoever was in that room was about to discover that Ginny Weasley was visiting Azkaban. She'd expressly promised George that she was never coming back. Hermione and the others would never understand why she was here. Her stomach lurched in panic and she staggered to her feet, crossing the room swiftly to Alec's desk with the package of Toads outstretched. He looked up quizzically.

"I'm running late," she blurted.

"Would you like me to deliver those, luv?" he asked sympathetically.

At that moment, a team of Aurors swept into the reception area. The leader of the group, a formidable-looking man Ginny recognized, nodded curtly to Alec as they exited the premises. He was on the Wizengamot, she remembered. He had been there for Draco's trial. Silhouetted against the doorway in their billowing robes, he and his entourage reminded Ginny of crows.

"He's free now, Miss Weasley," Alec said quietly.

A murder of crows.

She could see through the door's window before it opened and she noted that Malfoy's condition had deteriorated further. He was positively gaunt. His hair fell down to his hunched shoulders in dirty tangles. His eyes were huge in his face, and rolled like those of a madman. Under the harsh light of the interrogation room, he looked undead. As the door opened, he flinched and ducked his head. When he finally looked up, his eyes got even wider, if it were possible. His mouth opened slackly, and a benediction fell from his lips.

"Ginny."

She tried to keep the alarm out of her expression, but she was flummoxed. Her brain worked frantically to process the information it had just received. "Draco, what happened?"

He was shaking his head, looking very much like Dobby preparing to hurl himself into a wall. "I had to, I can't stay, I can't take it anymore!" He flew out of his chair and flung himself at her. "Ginny, I'm sorry!" His grimy, manacled hands clutched at her shoulders and smeared foreboding all over her. He stumbled to his knees, taking her with him. They grappled desperately for a moment, and she rocked backwards to get enough space to kick him in the chest, sending them sprawling away from each other on the mouldy floor. "What have you done?" she panted, struggling to her feet despite the lead weight in her stomach.

"Oi! What's going on?" Alec had entered the room upon viewing the altercation. Ginny and Draco both froze. "Are you okay, Miss Weasley?"

She nodded, never taking her eyes off Draco. "Leave us." She waited until she heard the door latch again. "Draco."

"I can't stay here," he sniveled, scrambling up from the floor. "I told them where Snape was, and I told them about your brother."

The dread that had been building in Ginny since she saw the Auror squad erupted into fire. "You _idiot_!" She cuffed him upside his head and he screamed as if she'd Crucio'ed him, curling into a ball. "That didn't hurt," she scoffed, knowing she hadn't hit him _that_ hard….

He was crying openly now, his hands tearing at his own hair. "Ginny, please, I had to!"

"You weren't even going to _tell_ me before you destroyed my family? I hate you!" The squad…maybe it wasn't too late…dammit, she needed more time….

"We're friends, we're friends," he wailed.

"Colour all your days black, Malfoy," she spat. "I am no friend of yours."

Alec had been ready as she stalked towards the door, and Draco's cries were cut short as she crossed the threshold of the room. She'd never been more grateful for Silencing charms.


	9. Wearing Steel that's Bright and True

**Chapter Nine: Wearing Steel That's Bright And True**

Ginny ran.

She tore at her arms as the charmed boat made its infuriating progress back to the shore. She nearly forgot Malfoy's wand at the Ministry return area, and scraped her elbow raw in the Floo network. The worst was the trip from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts. She took the shortcut through the Shrieking Shack, which she'd traveled multiple times with Harry last spring. The cold, damp air moved sluggishly in and out of her nose, and she worried that she might suffocate in the underground passage. But Ginny ran just the same.

She ran, and her mind worked furiously. Draco had told on Percy. Ostensibly, she was only minutes behind the Auror squad. There was still time. Maybe. The damage had been done, but would the Ministry report that Percy was a Death Eater if they couldn't find him? The only option would be for the Order to get there first. They had to move quietly, quietly, and…do what, exactly?

She drew fire into her lungs and willed her feet to keep beating against the ground. It was all she could do not to stop for breath. A distinct feeling of betrayal ran thick through her veins and made her muscles ache. She was a fool, trusting _Draco Malfoy_ not to hurt her. Ginny tried to dam her thoughts against that particular path – she didn't want to take energy away from running – but it was inexorable. She thought about Draco, and about Tom, and she could feel hysteria forming on the borders of her mind. _Not again_. It was hard to question an eleven-year-old about poor judgement, but now Ginny was sixteen and she, of all people, should know better than to trust a snake.

Finally, she could see natural light. She took a rock and leaned it against the critical knot of the Whomping Willow, then banished the stone from a safe distance. Shin-high snow was impeding her progress, but she hiked her robes and bounded across the Hogwarts lawn and into the castle. Dimly aware that she'd be in for it if Filch caught her tracking mud through the halls, she scurried to the Headmistress' office, but she didn't know the password and the gargoyle was less than forthcoming. Ginny threw her winter cloak at the gargoyle's feet and tore off for the staff room. Professor Lamentina and Professor Sinistra were at tea, and looked quite annoyed at this sudden disruption. "Have you never been taught to knock?" Sinistra asked irritably, replacing her teacup with a haughty clink.

"McGonagall," Ginny gasped.

Lamentina's eyes widened immediately. "What happened?"

"Need to talk to her. Now." Now that Ginny had stopped moving, the stitch in her side bent her over double.

"Was there mischief in the village?" Sinistra asked, still looking mistrustful.

Ginny appealed directly to Lamentina. "Please. It's urgent."

"I'll be back shortly," Lamentina promised Sinistra, who snorted. "Come, Miss Weasley."

There wasn't enough oxygen in McGonagall's office. "Order," Ginny told McGonagall as soon as she pushed ahead of Lamentina.

McGonagall gave her a hard look and then looked over Ginny's shoulder. "That will be all, Arianne," she said to Lamentina, who was lingering in the doorway.

"Of course," said Lamentina, withdrawing with a petulant frown.

"Now what is the meaning of this, Miss Weasley?" McGonagall asked, sounding nearly as irritable as Sinistra.

Ginny kneaded her side, her breath hissing through her teeth but not seeming to take hold in her body. "I need your help," she panted, acutely aware of the bead of sweat trickling down her hairline.

"That much is obvious."

"It's Percy. We need to hide him." McGonagall went still. "He's a Death Eater spy but Draco Malfoy told the Ministry where to find him and Snape, and- Professor!" she cried in alarm as McGonagall shot to her feet, flinging her chair against the wall. "My mum's heart will break! He's harmless! Please, listen!"

Static crackled around the room like a living creature. McGonagall looked murderous. Snarling, the Headmistress drew her wand.

Ginny had made a terrible mistake.


	10. Anger as Beauty

**Chapter Ten: Anger as Beauty**

Professor McGonagall pointed her wand towards the window. "_Expecto patronum_!" she cried. "_Expecto patronum_!" Twin silver wildcats streaked across the office and leapt through the glass. Breathing heavily, she turned back to Ginny.

"How many people have you told?" McGonagall asked harshly.

Ginny quailed under the fury of the Headmistress' glare. "N-no one, Professor," she panted. "I came straight here."

"There's no time to lose."

"Please, Professor, have mercy on my brother."

"You _foolish_ girl," McGonagall snapped, yanking Ginny to her feet. "Come quickly." She threw her door open and stumbled over Ginny's winter cloak. Muttering an oath, she levitated it towards Ginny. "You'll need this," she said and pulled her forward once more, forcing Ginny to clasp it around her neck in stride.

"What exactly did Mr. Malfoy say?" McGonagall asked as she and Ginny hurried across the Hogwarts grounds.

"He said he told where Percy and Snape were. I saw the Aurors leave before I went in."

"What did he tell them about Percy?"

"That- that he's a…Professor, it's a big misunder-"

"Spit it out, Miss Weasley." McGonagall pulled Ginny to a halt just outside of the Hogwarts grounds.

"Malfoy told them Percy's a Death Eater spy," Ginny blurted miserably. McGonagall muttered darkly under her breath. "But he's a Ministry spy, so what-"

Kingsley Shacklebolt winked into existence before them. "Minerva," he rumbled.

"It's happened. Get him to a safe house, Kingsley, and make it snappy," McGonagall ordered.

"Of course," he nodded, Disapparating immediately.

Ginny sagged in relief. A safe house. McGonagall wasn't going to let Percy be taken, after all. _It's happened_. What could that possibly mean? And how did Kingsley know who to rescue? Another, more sinister thought entered her mind, but she pushed it aside without examining it.

McGonagall rounded back to Ginny. "Why are you having conversations with Mr. Malfoy?"

"Well, I- it's a bit of a long story-"

With a loud _crack_, Tonks appeared in the snow. "Professor," she said, looking curiously from McGonagall to Ginny. "Wotcher, Ginny."

Ginny waved weakly.

"Go to him quickly," McGonagall said, getting Tonks' attention. "He's in danger."

Tonks' eyes widened. "I-yeah, okay," she stammered, her features becoming younger and more masculine. "I'll be back." With a _crack_, she was gone. McGonagall took a deep, calming breath, lost in thought.

Ginny was swimming in confusion. Why had McGonagall sent two people separately after Percy, and why had Tonks been turning into a boy? The preposterous thought came back to her and she pushed it away once more. Two Order members. Two Aurors. The dark thought slunk back to her and this time she couldn't budge it. Two wizards uncovered. Ginny's mouth sagged open in silent, disbelieving horror. _No_.

The Headmistress had sent an Auror after a minor spy to keep him safe for interrogation and a shapeshifter to warn Severus Snape of danger. Not two seconds ago, Ginny had been in the presence of two covert Death Eaters. Now, however, it was one-on-one, and her opponent was unawares.

She flicked her wand and McGonagall's went flying into a snowdrift. McGonagall's head jerked up and she took in Ginny's defensive stance. The Headmistress tossed her head defiantly, intimidating despite her wandlessness. "Who are you?" she demanded coldly.

"Who are YOU," Ginny shouted, "and what have you done to Tonks?"

McGonagall blinked angrily. "What are you talking about, Ginevra?"

"You're a Death Eater!" she shrieked, sparks issuing from her wand.

She snorted disdainfully, drawing up her sleeve and showing her unblemished arm to Ginny.

"You're Polyjuiced! and you've put Tonks under the Imperius Curse!"

"What utter nonsense!"

"You're saving Snape!"

"Thanks to your quick actions, Miss Weasley."

Ginny took a breath so deep that it hurt and prepared to unleash a fresh tirade, but was distracted by the arrival of Kingsley Shacklebolt. "She's a Death Eater!" she cried instead.

"What's going on here?"

"Severus is a member of the Order," McGonagall said to Ginny, then to Shacklebolt: "How is he?"

"Safe. A bit shaken, but utterly safe."

"Snape killed Dumbledore!" Ginny shouted, infuriated at being ignored.

"_Accio_ wand!" muttered Shacklebolt.

"No!"

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for not listening to your elders!" McGonagall snapped, snatching her wand from Shacklebolt. "Your brother is safe from the Ministry."

"He…Professor?"

"Kingsley, if you could work some connections to make sure a certain Draco Malfoy remains in Azkaban as long as possible?"

"I'll see what I can do," he affirmed. He looked from McGonagall to Ginny and back again. "I trust there will be no more misunderstandings?"

"Miss Weasley?" McGonagall prompted.

"No," said Ginny, deflated.

"I'll be off, then," said Shacklebolt, and he was.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Ginny began.

"No matter," McGonagall said gruffly. "I'm afraid I didn't debrief you fully; there wasn't time and I hadn't expected these circumstances. You see, Miss Weasley, your brother was put into deep cover on behalf of the Order, working as a double agent. For the illusion to be complete, he had to alienate himself from your entire family. None of you could know what he was doing. That cover is blown now, so I suppose it is of no consequence if you know."

"But Draco said Percy told the Death Eaters how to attack the Burrow!" Her chest constricted as she thought of that night and the miserable chain of events it had precipitated.

"He did, and it turned out to be a fantastic sting. Percy captured Draco personally."

"That doesn't…he would've had to go to trial."

"I performed the Memory Charm on Mr. Malfoy myself," McGonagall said grimly. "I wish there was a way we could've wiped Percy completely from his mind, but it would be obvious that he had been Obliviated."

"Percy let Draco into my room!" Even as she said this, a bubble of hope rose inside her. Percy wasn't a Death Eater?

"It was an acceptable risk," McGonagall allowed, looking uncomfortable. "We believed you capable of taking care of yourself, and you proved us right."

_Crack_!

Tonks' head was drooping and her shoulders rounded; her chin trembled as she raised her head to look at McGonagall.

"What happened?" McGonagall demanded.

"He…." Tonks took a moment to steady herself, one fat tear running down her cheek. "There were signs of a struggle. He wasn't there, I'm sorry, I failed."

McGonagall gasped, her wand falling to the ground as she brought her hands up to cover her mouth. "Severus!"

"I know!" Tonks wailed, and they fell into each other's arms as Ginny stood by, completely uncomprehending.

The next day, the Daily Prophet trumpeted that an Auror squad had discovered accused murderer and known Death Eater Severus Snape, but he had resisted arrest and had been killed in the ensuing altercation. Many students openly rejoiced and McGonagall made sure to wear a triumphant grin all day, but Ginny had been informed of Snape's situation and knew that this was just the culmination of a long, long list of painful sacrifices the Potions Master had made to ensure that Voldemort never discovered how complete his favourite servant's defiance was until it was too late.

Her heart was so weary of the fight and the abject waste it created.


	11. The Battle of Evermore

**Chapter Eleven: The Battle of Evermore**

Ginny ran a hand through her warm, damp hair and trudged down to the library to start her Charms essay that was due tomorrow. She wanted nothing more than to relax with a nice warm Butterbeer after the Quidditch practice she'd had, and promised herself she'd only work hard enough to scrape together something resembling an essay on the subtleties of making an end table dance a hornpipe. Colin was already gone when she arrived, but Luna was immersed in reading at a table near the starry window and didn't even look up when Ginny dropped her bag on the table. "How was practice?" she asked, her finger still skimming down the page.

"Unending," Ginny groaned.

"Dean still mad?"

"Furious." She'd handed last week's match to Ravenclaw on a silver platter.

"He'll get over it."

"He'd better. How's your essay coming?"

"Essay?" she asked blankly.

"For Charms?"

"Oh, that," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "I finished that on Sunday."

"What're you working on, then? Did you get some Arithmancy homework?"

"I did, but it's not due until Friday. I was working on it in the Common Room but people kept Banishing my books and it actually gave me an idea for the DA. It's kind of complicated, but I'm looking up the theory right now and it should be more solid for the next meeting." The DA, spurred on by Snape's death, was training harder than ever, but it seemed to Ginny that she was getting worse instead of better at battle spells. She hoped it was the strain of recent events affecting her performance. It was like being in a time warp, second year all over again with secrets to keep, clandestine friends turned betrayers, and horrifying knowledge. On top of the stress in her waking hours, she had a new nightmare to add to her regular circuit of Harry's Amortentia and Tom's lies. Now, in her dreams she killed Draco and then cried inconsolably, even though she was happy he was dead. If only she could throw the Immolation Curse that easily when she was conscious…. "Are you still working on your Charms essay?" Luna asked.

"Well, that would imply that I've started, so no."

Luna smiled sympathetically. "I'll keep you company." But even Luna left the library with a yawn and an apology shortly after midnight.

* * *

Ginny couldn't keep her concentration the next day and was only gleaning snatches of McGonagall's Transfiguration lecture on the theory of person-to-inanimate-object Transfiguration. "It is possible for a person to die when Transfigured into an object, which is why there are no accounts of persons in hiding as jewellery boxes for extended periods of time. It is far safer to reside in a sentient form, as Animagi do." Ginny's thoughts rested briefly on Peter Pettigrew and remembered with satisfaction that when she was young she would steal Scabbers away from Ron occasionally and dress the rat as a ruffled pink baby. Her eyes closed as she relished Pettigrew's likely feelings on the matter. "Likewise, as you've no doubt seen for yourself," McGonagall's voice continued, "an object Transfigured into an animal may seem normal at first, but will begin to…." McGonagall trailed off abruptly, a student cried out, and Ginny's eyes flew open.

Professor McGonagall was glowing. Light was radiating from a small circle on the Headmistress' chest. Ginny looked down and saw an echoing beacon at her hip. She shared a wide-eyed look with Colin, but where hers was of horror, his was of delight.

"Students," McGonagall said, her voice clear, "I must ask you to retire to the Great Hall immediately and remain there until further notice. Immediately," she repeated crossly as the class began to murmur instead of move. Ginny, Colin, and Luna shot to the front of the pack as students began to file into the hallway. "Off you go, now," she said to the class, motioning for the DA members to follow her. She swept down the hall and threw open a classroom door to discover Hermione squared off against Professor Lamentina with other students physically backing her. Lamentina whirled at the intrusion and visibly relaxed when she saw who it was. "Minerva, would you-"

"The Tortoise Protocol has been invoked," McGonagall interrupted. Lamentina went still. "I'll be away from the school so I must trust you to carry everything, Arianne. Miss Granger, if you would collect the other students?" Hermione disappeared and McGonagall waved her co-conspirators forward.

Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Morag MacDougal and Daphne Greengrass were rooted to their seats, surveying the scene with ill-concealed incredulity. "What is going _on_?" Parkinson cried, disgruntled at being left in the dark.

"All students to the Great Hall," Lamentina snapped.

McGonagall led the DA on a hurried path outside Hogwarts. Colin could barely contain his excitement; he kept looking over at Ginny with a grin that strained the tendons in his neck, and when Hermione rejoined them with the younger DA members, he high-fived Dennis. Luna was solemn and dignified, her eyes betraying a hint of fire. Neville's face was stony and grim. Hermione waved everyone forward with a fanatical expression on her face. Ginny felt numb. _Not yet_. She wasn't ready. The DA wasn't ready. She saw Anthony and Terry smirk at each other and realized that most of the group had never seen battle and didn't know what to expect. She felt ancient in comparison.

McGonagall halted and turned to her charges, who were beginning to shiver in the frosty air. "_Accio _winter cloaks!" she said with exasperation, and turned somber once more. "Students, you already made your decision about your participation in this war years ago, but I must remind you that what you are about to do is extremely dangerous." Colin and Dennis, now decked in outerwear, could barely suppress their glee. "Your own safety is paramount; remain alert and defensive at all times. Count to five, and if I haven't returned, follow. And students," Professor McGonagall whispered, her jaw clenched, "do take care of each other." The Headmistress pulled a chain on her neck, and retrieved a radiant blue velvet pouch from beneath her robes. Meditatively, she reached her fingers inside the pouch and abruptly vanished.

Ginny hadn't realized that she was holding her breath until Hermione broke the ensuing silence. "The fate of the wizarding world could rest upon this day," she intoned, her voice carrying easily across the snow. "Remember what we've learned, and let's go do Harry proud!"

The DA cheered lustily and began to Portkey away. Dennis and Colin were already gone. Luna and Terry disappeared. Neville dropped his pouch, bent down to retrieve it, and vanished in his crouch. Hurriedly, Ginny shoved her cloak aside and thrust her hand inside her pocket. Her hand stopped abruptly; her pocket was folded. She tried to wiggle her fingers but they were still. Panicking, she tried to pull her hand free, but nothing moved. She was Frozen. Her eyes went to the only figure remaining. Hermione was worrying her lip, staring absently into space and tugging her drawstring open; abruptly, Ginny was alone and still unable to move. She felt oddly claustrophobic, like she had the time Fred and George had shoved her under her bed. The lack of movement was maddening, but the discomfort was rapidly overtaken by dread at finding out why she was immobile. Was Tom here? Was the whole thing a ruse? Were they going to kill her like this, like the cowards they were? Her heart beat faster and faster – or was it beating at all? – and if she was indeed breathing, she was probably hyperventilating. It was almost a relief to feel an arm go around her waist followed by the unmistakable compression of Side-Along Apparition.


	12. In a World Called Catastrophe

**Chapter Twelve: In a World Called Catastrophe**

She was in an ornate, ice-encrusted garden. Sunlight burnished each individual crystal on the tree branches to an iridescent shine. "Nice try, Weaslette," a voice hissed in her ear and Draco prised his wand out of Ginny's rigid hand. She was startled at the change freedom made to her adversary's appearance. His hair was clean and gleaming again, and although there were dark circles under his eyes and his nose was still crooked, he looked more substantial than when she'd last seen him. The wand disappeared under his elegant forest-green robes. "I'll need this, too," he said, sidling up to her, "please excuse my reach." When he slipped his hand into her pocket, she fought against the Freezing Charm so hard that it hurt but, of course, it did no good and the glowing Portkey was in his hand. He surveyed it lazily, a smile playing at his lips.

_No_, Ginny screamed in her mind, _you can't leave me here! _But to her surprise, he made no move to use the Galleon. He continued smiling at her, a thin-lipped grin that quickly turned into a caricature of itself. "What did I tell you?" he said, lightly even as his façade of calmness began to crumble. "'Stay away from Potter and the Dark Lord.' That's all I ever asked you to do." _That's a lie,_ Ginny thought. _You asked me to do everything._ "CAN YOU NOT FOLLOW ONE SIMPLE INSTRUCTION?" he screamed, flicking the blue pouch into the snow. "Here you are, trying to get yourself killed once again," he raged. "Well, I'm not going to let it happen."

Deep, mindless hatred was churning inside Ginny. Draco continued to rant, but she tuned him out and focused instead on the blue veins she could see under the translucent skin of his throat. _Open_, she commanded them. _Let his blood spill thick upon the snow until I'm free._

He was speaking kindly now. "It feels like forever since I've seen you," he said in a conversational tone. "I've missed you. Let's go inside," he said, gesturing outside of Ginny's vision, "and warm up." If Ginny had doubted it before, she was sure now: Draco's mind had snapped when his mother died. Hope sprung in her chest as he drew the wand she'd been using for the past few months out of his sleeve, and she called on every muscle in her body to focus on the small hole glowing in the snowdrift off to the side. She would worry about wands when she got there. As the Freezing Charm lifted, Ginny was already hurtling into a dive towards the Portkey. Snow sprayed her face as she landed, and her hands scrabbled in the drift before she was thrown back into something hard enough to knock the wind out of her.

She peered through her snow-clumped hair to see Draco advancing on her menacingly, wand out, but she didn't move and he didn't strike again. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you," he said finally. He was silhouetted against the bright winter sun and she couldn't make out his features.

"You just hurt me," she said, still reclining on the ground against the low stone wall she'd hit.

"That was nothing, Ginny," he said viciously. "Nothing at all."

"I'm going," she said. "Give me a wand."

He snatched up the covered Portkey, pocketed it, and hauled her forcibly to her feet. "All I've ever tried to do is save you," he muttered angrily, reaching up to knock snow out of her hair.

She jerked her head away, retreating as far as his grip on her bicep would allow. "My family's out there, Draco," she said. "Surely you of all people understand that I can't just let them die."

He flinched but didn't release her. "Even Percy?" he spat. "He doesn't deserve saving any more than I do. You're still looking out for him, aren't you?" he added bitterly.

"Let me go."

"For the last time, I'm not going to let you die."

"If Voldemort wins, I _will_ die," Ginny hissed. "One way or another. So will you let me go if I say I'm trying to save my own life? I can't expect you to understand this," she said scathingly when he didn't answer, "but sometimes you have to do what's right, not what's best for you. Of course, you killed Snape, so-"

His face clouded dangerously. "_Don't_," he warned.

"Let me go or so help me, I won't rest until I've killed you."

"No." He seemed completely unconcerned by the prospect.

"Draco," she said forcefully, "if you've ever cared about me at all, if you've ever truly thought of yourself as my friend, _let me go_."

A faint breeze passed through the garden and ruffled the trees, showering a spray of fine ice crystals over them. Draco's exquisite winter cloak looked diamond-encrusted and water droplets clung to his eyelashes. He took in an odd, gasping breath, as if he were drowning, and threw her a panicked look. "I'm going."

"Like hell you are," Ginny snapped impotently.

"It's the only way. I'll cover your back."

"You'll fight against Death Eaters?" she scoffed.

"There's no love lost between the Dark Lord and myself right now," Draco replied sardonically. "Besides, I'm not fighting against them. I'm fighting for you."

The thought made her decidedly uncomfortable. "I'm not your mother, Draco," Ginny said, as gently as she could, "and saving me won't bring her back."

He looked at her oddly. "I know."

"I'm going to attack your friends."

"I have no friends." He produced the blue pouch. "Here, hold this."

Ginny tore open the drawstring to the pouch and shimmied the Galleon half out of its case. The coin was blinding, but she resisted the urge to touch it.

"Take this wand."

She did. "This isn't my wand."

He clutched the wand he was holding to his chest. "This is mine."

"But you gave it to- oh, forget it, time's wasting."

"On the count of three, then?" he asked, rapping himself on the head with his wand.

Ginny watched as his person took on the colours of the surrounding garden. "You're not exactly invisible," she remarked.

"No one will notice," his near-disembodied voice replied. "They'll be too focused on the battle. Grab on three, Ginny, ready? One, two, three!"

Ginny pinched the Galleon between her fingers.


	13. Brighter Hell

**Chapter Thirteen: Brighter Hell**

They were behind a hedge. A cruel, unnatural wind was raging, whipping Ginny's hair about her face. It was bright but overcast, the sun hidden by complete cloud cover. Galleons were littered in the packed snow at their feet. The sight made Ginny's heart palpitate wildly. This was it. "Draco?" she whispered.

The scenery rippled and she felt a hand on her shoulder. "I'm here."

"Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be. Ginny, be careful. I mean it."

"Let's go."

Together, they crept around the hedge. Four cloaked figures were wandering absently across the snow-covered meadow in their general direction, wands out, looking for something.

"Bleeding idiots," Draco breathed. "On your call, Ginny."

Ginny nodded and sprang forward. "_Reducto_!" she cried, blasting one of them off their feet. The largest of the four sent a bright orange spell at her and she made to spring away but Draco held her fast and the spell bounced harmlessly away; he'd cast a Shield Charm.

"_Expelliarmus_, you great ponce!" Draco's voice drawled, but she wasn't watching what he was doing; she sent a Pinprick Hex after a third Death Eater and a Full-Body Bind on the one she'd blasted. The Pinpricked foe missed his next spell, and she finished him off with a Sleeping Charm. She whirled to Draco's side but the other two figures were prone. "Never learned how to counter _that_ one, did you Crabbe?" he sneered.

"Those were your mates?" Ginny asked, horrified.

The wind broke oddly at her back. "Eight o'clock."

Ginny whirled, casting a reflexive Bat-Bogey Hex. Another black figure was speeding towards them, and he hurled a ball of blue light at Ginny. She threw up a shield but it wasn't enough and she fell to her knees as she felt the cerulean energy crash spectacularly around her. Her opponent flicked his wand at her before she recovered from the impact and sent her sprawling. To this point, she had been unaffected by the skirmishes, treating them like any other DA meeting, but when she fell and hit hard ground instead of pillows, as her ulnar nerve sang and paralyzed her hand, she remembered what she was fighting for and what the stakes were. All the hatred she was using so much effort to suppress – hatred of Percy's sacrifice, of the betrayals of Tom Riddle and Hermione and Harry and Draco, of all of the pain Voldemort and his ilk had heaped into her life – sprung free. Righteous fury coursed through her and she aimed a Glacius Curse from the ground, hitting the man in the knee. He roared as his leg froze to the ground and cast a curse at her. She rolled and fired back, and the man sagged grotesquely, still held upright by his frozen leg.

She was pulled roughly to her feet before she could thoroughly savour the victory. "That," Draco growled in her ear, "was brilliant. What did you do?"

"We're too far away!" she cried in frustration, not satisfied by taking down a lone man. "Come on!" She sprinted off towards the flying bursts of colour just past a thatch of trees, filled with bloodlust. _I'm coming, Harry_. She entered the fracas with a warrior's cry, bringing her wrath down on any Death Eater she saw. Her actions were not longer deliberate; she was surging forward on instinct, dodging and rolling, her cloak torn off. Sometimes she felt Draco pressed against her back and sometimes she could only hear him muttering under his breath, but he was constantly at her side, protecting and guiding her, and the part of her consciousness that hung suspended above the _danse macabre_ she was engaged in knew that she probably would've already fallen without him there.

"Five o'clock," he said now and she leapt backwards from a shower of silver sparkles, turning in midair to see Luna and Angelina Johnson losing ground to two Death Eaters. She charged forward, an avenging valkyrie, and hurled an Immolation Curse at the smaller one, whose long brown hair was flapping wildly in the wind. The curse went wide, but her companion noticed immediately and sent a spell straight at Ginny. She was knocked off her feet from behind and the spell went overhead as she tumbled over the snow. "_Sectumsempra!_" she heard Draco hiss and she staggered to her feet and ran towards Angelina and Luna, who had vanquished their attackers.

"Thanks, Ginny!" Angelina cried.

Luna motioned to them urgently. "This way!" she shouted.

Ginny darted after Luna and collided with an invisible barrier that clamped around her like a vise. "_Crucio_!" Draco bellowed directly into her ear.

Her eyes watered as her head vibrated. "They're getting away!" she shrieked.

"Come on," he said, pushing past her so forcefully that she nearly fell over and then pulling her with him.

"We're going the wrong way," she said between clenched teeth, but Draco paid her no heed. She fired random hexes into the melee battle they were skirting, but it didn't give her near the high that direct combat had and a whine was rising in her throat. "Let's kill them!"

They came to an abrupt halt. "So," Draco snarled. Ginny looked down at her feet and was surprised to see a black-robed man lying prostrate before them. His mask was gone, revealing his high cheekbones and prominent chin. Ginny had never seen him before, and he gaped up at her in confusion. "You really think we wouldn't find out?" Draco's near-disembodied voice continued. "That we wouldn't demand vengeance?" A ring on the man's wand hand winked supernaturally and he gasped, confusion replaced with terror. "That's right," Draco's voice snapped. "This is for my father." There was a blur above the Death Eater and suddenly the man's face exploded. Ginny giggled as bloody gristle went flying, glorying in the enemy's destruction. The man went completely rigid and Ginny felt now-familiar warmth against her arm. "Let's go."

"We've lost Luna," Ginny said, but she didn't care overmuch. Her wand hand itched and with a cry she charged back into battle, throwing herself into a skirmish and feeling power surge through her once again.

There was a low hill with a tor less than a hundred yards away that the clouds seemed to swirl around, and she just knew that Harry and Voldemort were there among the stones. She pressed on relentlessly, once managing to bounce a hex off of Peter Pettigrew's silver hand before he slipped away towards more impressive quarry. Ginny saw the great blond Death Eater who had taunted her last year closing in on the Creevys and she bared her teeth, but before she could do anything, she heard a grunt and felt Draco slump heavily to the ground behind her.

"Did I miss you, baby?" It was Bellatrix Lestrange.

Ginny prepared to hurl an Immolation Curse, but Lestrange was faster and Ginny was forced to a Shield Charm, which absorbed the brunt of Lestrange's spell. She felt a burning sting as the flesh on her shoulder opened. There was no time to counter and Lestrange came at her again and again, forcing her backwards. Ginny was acutely aware of her own laboured breathing and her mortality as Lestrange's Slashing Hexes made it through her shields again and again, and a deep slice just below her knee forced her to the ground.

"Are you going to scream for me, pretty baby?" Lestrange crooned, blocking the Immolation Curse that Ginny finally managed to get off. "_Expelliarmus!_ Now, what should we-"

A jet of green light hit Lestrange and the Death Eater landed beside Ginny, glassy-eyed. A hand reached down for Ginny and she looked up at Neville Longbottom. His expression was hard and defiant, a look she'd only seen once before at the Department of Mysteries. "Come on," he said and she snatched up the dead woman's wand and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.

Strange beams of light were emanating from the tor, which was now less than fifty yards away. Neville was surprisingly ruthless, his curses well-chosen and precise. Ginny looked reckless and ineffective by comparison. She fought on beside him, but she didn't feel jubilant at the notion of combat anymore. Her body hurt all over and she was panting with exertion. That, and she was noticing things she hadn't back when she felt invincible. Bodies. She was sidestepping them, hearing them groan, trying her best to ignore figures she knew had to be comrades.

A curse hit Neville in the shoulder and he went down on one knee. Ginny cast an Impediment Jinx at his attacker and then a great shockwave ripped through the frozen meadow. Battle ceased immediately and all eyes went to the tor.

Two figures were silhouetted against the sky. The taller figure fell, and the air filled with sounds of Disapparition. Then an errant bolt of purple light hit the shorter figure and he, too, collapsed.

Ginny ran forward mindlessly, Neville at her heels. She saw Moody rush forward and lift Harry's limp body; he nodded to McGonagall and Disapparated with the Boy Who Lived in his arms. Hermione emerged from behind a boulder, tears coursing down her cheeks as she dragged Ron behind her. She motioned for Neville to help her, and before they disappeared Ginny could see that Ron's wand arm was gone. Her stomach lurched dangerously. "…students back to Hogwarts," McGonagall was saying.

It was over. The Death Eaters had fled and there was nothing to do but tend the wounded and bury the dead. All she wanted to do was sleep. A wizard was beckoning to her, offering to Apparate her back to Hogwarts, but she shook her head, suddenly remembering. _Draco_.

Her body felt at the verge of giving up on her, but she sprinted off, scrutinizing the bodies now, hoping that he wasn't too far from where Bellatrix Lestrange had fallen, hoping that her body remained…. Where had they been? Finally, she spotted Lestrange's long black hair and collapsed beside the corpse, crawling on her hands and knees through the snow, looking for anything that would give her a clue.

McGonagall was nearly upon her when she hit something that wasn't snow and lifted the Disillusionment Charm. Draco was there, cold and inert, and blood, so much black blood, pooled out like dark wings around him.

Ginny turned and vomited into the snow.

* * *

A/N – So, I've never been good at action scenes of any sort. I had intended to spend extra time on this but I want it out before DH gets released and I'm sort of forcing my own hand to release this rough version. My apologies to readers who were expecting decent prose. 


	14. The Larks, Still Bravely Singing, Fly

**Chapter Fourteen: The Larks, Still Bravely Singing, Fly**

"So Friday, then?" Molly asked. Her voice echoed off the stone floors and wall.

Ginny nodded slowly. "It makes the most sense."

"Well, Friday!" Molly said, her voice artificially bright as she turned to the third person in the room. "That should be enough time, right, George?"

George appeared not to have heard her at all. Not even his eyes moved from the object in his hands. The silence stretched unrelentingly.

Molly looked like she might start crying again. "Are Dad and Charlie back?" she asked Ginny instead.

"Not yet."

"I should've talked to them last time they popped in, I just…didn't want to leave the room."

For the first time, Ginny realized how old her mother looked. "I know, Mum." She hated this silent room, so cavernous, with only the tiny window, three stiff chairs, Mum crying, George catatonic beside the awful linen-covered bed….

The door flew open and clattered against the wall. The sound was so jarring against the quiet that adrenaline pulsed through Ginny as she whirled around. "Draco!" she cried, in surprise and delight. He was wan-looking but awake, and moving towards her quickly. She opened her arms in welcome. "How do you-"

Draco wound himself around her and planted a searing kiss on her lips.

It was like being engulfed in fire. His lips were hot and dry, and she realized that he was dangerously feverish. His arms burned against her torso. He'd taken advantage of accosting her mid-sentence and his tongue was so hot against hers that it actually hurt. Dimly, she could hear her mother's outraged gasp. Ginny braced herself against his chest and pushed. "Gerroff me, Malfoy," she groaned. She must have hit a wound, because he pulled away with a grunt and retreated to a distance, his eyes focused on her all the while. The expression on his face was utterly inhuman, and he stalked her like a tiger stalks prey. Then his legs collapsed and he fell to the ground with a startled cry.

"That's what you get for saving my sister's life," George said as he pocketed his wand. "I vowed to kill you once." Calmly, he straightened his shoulders and regained hold of his twin's charred hand. It was the most he'd moved all day.

Ginny removed the Jelly-Legs Jinx from a stunned Draco and helped him struggle to his feet. Molly was focused on the blond and looked like she had just sucked on a lemon. "Now see here, young man," she threatened, "I don't know how you've been raised, but-"

"Mum, he's delirious," Ginny explained hastily. "Fever. He needs to go back to the hospital wing." She grabbed Draco by his upper arm, pinching him hard in the shoulder. He winced and finally lost his predatory look. "I'll be right back," she said to her mother, who still appeared unconvinced. She practically shoved Draco out the door. "What were you thinking?" she hissed.

Draco wasn't even listening. His eyes were focused behind her with an incredulous look on his face.

"What is it?" she snapped, turning to look over her shoulder and joining Draco in shock. Percy was in the hallway, looking just as he always had, with a wistful expression on his face.

Brother and sister appraised each other for a moment, and then Ginny's face broke into a wide grin. "Welcome back," she said warmly.

Percy strode up and gave her an awkward one-armed hug, looking relieved. "It's good to be back," he said. He pulled away and recognized Draco. "You," he said in surprise.

"You," Draco returned, looking a bit confused himself.

"Mum's in there," Ginny interrupted, jerking her thumb at the door she'd just come out of.

"I'll talk to you in a bit, then." Percy said. Ginny was looking forward to it.

"Let's get you back to the hospital wing," Ginny said to Draco after she heard Molly's delighted shriek.

"I'm not going anywhere," Draco insisted, swaying unsteadily. "I want to know what's happened."

"You can barely stand."

"I'll sit, then."

Ginny threw open the nearest classroom and steered Draco onto a bench. "Voldemort's dead," she said, taking a seat beside him. She produced two Peppermint Toads from her pocket and handed them to him.

"Did Potter kill him?" Draco asked, popping the sweets in his mouth.

"Yeah."

There was silence until he swallowed the candies. "And I suppose he's scheduled to be in parades until the end of the century?"

"No. A spell hit him after he killed Voldemort. He's at St. Mungo's. It…well, we don't know exactly what happened. He seems to have some sort of amnesia, and…he doesn't remember magic. Keeps insisting it doesn't exist, even when it's done in front of him, and every time the Healers come near him with wands he starts shouting at them to leave before his uncle sees. He doesn't remember any of us. It's awful. We hope it can be reversed, but…."

To Ginny's surprise, Draco had no smart comment on Harry's situation. Instead, he inched closer to her and draped his arm over her shoulders. It burned like a brand.

"Ron has to be kept sedated for now. He's so furious every time he awakes…Hermione is always in his room, she blames herself for his wand arm. Fleur might not wake up, and Bill's beside himself….Fred got burned…it took him three hours to…." She took a strangled breath and didn't try to continue.

"But you're okay," he said, as if that was all that mattered.

"Yeah," she admitted, the tears finally welling up and spilling over her cheeks. "But I wish I wasn't. It's not fair," she choked, "that I'm fine when other people-"

"Don't you dare," he said fiercely, crushing her to his chest. "No idiotic Gryffindor nobility."

This only made her cry harder, but he held onto her quietly through the worst of it, waiting patiently until she could speak again. "I don't deserve this from you," she wept bitterly. "I left you when you fell. I didn't spare you a second thought until the whole thing was over."

"You did what you had to to stay alive."

"You could've died!"

"I didn't."

"Madam Pomfrey said that the hypothermia probably saved your life."

"All I felt was pain, and then everything went black. All I could think was that I had failed you and I'd never see you again." She felt his lips brush against her forehead. "Merlin, I thought I'd never see you again."

That was the second time he'd kissed her. Ginny extricated herself from his grasp, brushing her tears away. "You're delirious."

"I'm not delirious!" he snapped, his face still flushed unnaturally with fever.

"You kissed me."

"Yes," he said, matter-of-fact, daring her to make something more of it.

"Draco," she began, as kindly as she could, "you've gone sort of mad since your mum-"

"I'm not crazy and I'm not delirious!" he insisted angrily. "I am in _full possession_ of my wits. I'm not in prison anymore, but you're still my friend. I went out on that battlefield because I care about you, Ginny. My manor is always open to you. Everything I have is at your disposal."

"Don't say that."

"I'll say what I want. Why can't you understand that all I've wanted is keep you safe?"

"You saved me," she said. Draco nodded, looking proud not of his own actions, but of her for accepting this fact. Then he swayed alarmingly against her. "You've _got_ to get back to the infirmary."

"Yeah. Visit me," he whispered, but this time it wasn't a threat.

"Of course. And I'll even bring Peppermint Toads."

* * *

A/N: Thanks to my readers for…well, reading! I'd especially like to thank my reviewers for providing great motivation, and I'd love to hear from anyone else via review or PM. Happy Book 7, everyone! 


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